


i'll worship like a dog

by anirondack



Series: 10 Kinks Challenge [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Body Positivity, Body Worship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Mirrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10080338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anirondack/pseuds/anirondack
Summary: “You look beautiful.”Yuuri snorts. “I don't.”“Yes you do. Look at you.”“I am looking at me.”“Are you, though? Do you see what I'm seeing?”“I mean, I guess.”“I don't think you do,” Victor says softly. “What I see is beautiful.”very very soft body worship between two very very soft boys





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the 10 Kinks Challenge. Kinks are "body worship" and "mirror sex".
> 
> this is so soft omg we'll be back to your regularly scheduled filth next time
> 
> m8s it is hard to find a song about worship to steal a title from that isn't about jesus

Victor has a big, full length mirror hanging on the backside of his bathroom door. There’s a regular, full-sized bathroom mirror over the sink, like most bathrooms, but Victor likes to have the full length one to look at outfits and starting poses better. It takes Yuuri a little while to get used to it instead of the blank wall of his bathroom back in Hasetsu, and he keeps walking into it at three in the morning because, without his glasses, it doesn’t really look like a door, but really, he doesn’t mind the extra mirror.

It’s a little odd, though, when it winds up propped against their bedroom wall.

Yuuri looks at the mirror, and the mirror doesn’t tell him what it’s doing there. He pushes it forward with two fingers and sees a couple exposed screw holes. Then he goes to the bathroom and finds four screws and a screwdriver on the sink counter, and the faint outline of where the mirror used to be on the door. Yuuri stares at that too, but the door doesn’t grow a mouth and explain things either, so he shrugs and turns the light off and heads out.

Victor comes back a couple hours later with some shopping bags. Yuuri is reading a book with Makkachin and his lap, and they both look up when he comes in. “Hello, loves,” Victor says cheerfully. He swings by and plants a kiss on the top of Yuuri’s head, and then Makkachin’s head, and then goes to the kitchen. Yuuri can hear him putting things in cabinets and the refrigerator, and Makkachin yawns and stretches, then jump off of Yuuri’s lap to investigate if there’s any food for him. Yuuri smiles, then marks the page in his book and listens as Victor folds the shopping bags up and shoves them over by the microwave, then pours a glass of water and comes back into the sitting room. He drops down on the couch next to Yuuri and holds out one arm and Yuuri immediately shifts over to tuck himself against Victor’s side. Victor hums happily and sips at his water, and Yuuri rubs his head against Victor’s chin.

“How’s the great outdoors?” he asks

“Chilly. Not particularly great,” Victor replies. His arm curls around Yuuri’s waist, thumbing at his hip. “Much better in here.”

“Warmer, at least,” Yuuri agrees. He curls a little tighter around Victor’s side and Victor squeezes his waist.

After a little while of quiet cuddling and conversation, Yuuri raises his head a little. “I noticed our bathroom mirror is in the bedroom. Why’s that?”

“What? Oh. I forgot I’d done that!” Victor says.

“Why, though?”

“Yuuri,” Victor whines. “It was going to be a _gesture_.”

Yuuri makes a flapping motion with his hand. Victor makes a cute but indignant noise so Yuuri kisses him on the nose.

“What’s the gesture?”

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise,” Victor says.

“You know how I feel about surprises.”

“You love them very much and I’ve almost never given you a bad one,” Victor says confidently.

“Well… that’s pretty close.” Victor beams at him and Yuuri melts a little bit.

“Is it a good surprise?”

“I think so.”

“Well, then, I can’t wait to see it.”

Victor chuckles softly. “Me neither.”

Yuuri lets it go for the rest of the evening, which he’s mildly impressed with himself over. They make dinner together and Yuuri feeds Makkachin table scraps, even though he knows he shouldn’t. They take Makkachin for a night walk because it’s not snowing anymore and the lights are beautiful, and then come back and Victor makes hot tea. Yuuri feels his eyelids drooping a little bit, but Victor nudges him awake. “Come to bed with me, Yuuri.”

“Mm?”

“Come on. Don’t fall asleep on the couch. It’s not very comfortable.”

“That’s not true,” Yuuri yawns, but he pushes himself upright and stretches, making his spine crackle, then stands up. Victor stands too and takes their tea mugs to the kitchen to leave them in the sink, then takes Yuuri by the elbow and leads him into the bedroom.

Yuuri expects something new, something extra surprising, but the bedroom is, of course, as he left it. Victor turns on a lamp as Yuuri sits on the bed and watches him, and then Victor throws their pillows on the ground next to the mirror in a pile.

“Are we sleeping on the floor tonight?” Yuuri asks, bemused.

“No, of course not. This is a very expensive bed.” Victor kisses Yuuri’s forehead as he walks by, then turns off the overhead light, dropping the room into a comfortable dimness. Yuuri watches as Victor swaps his shirt for a nearly identical but much softer shirt and his jeans for thin sleep pants. Then he comes back and sits down on the pillow pile, spreading his legs apart to leave a Yuuri-sized hole, and holds his arms out.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, then slips off the bed and into his knees. He knee-walks over to Victor and tries to climb into his lap and maybe steal a kiss, but Victor turns him around and pulls him down so that his back is tight against Victor's chest. Victor wraps his arms around Yuuri's belly and nuzzles at his neck. Yuuri looks up and meets his own eyes in the mirror. It's kind of an uncomfortable feeling, but he can see Victor too, which makes up for it.

“Is this your gesture?” he asks, pushing Victor's forearm lazily.

“Mm. Mhm. Are you feeling gestured at?”

“I'm not really sure.”

“I'll help you get started.” Victor curls his fingers around the hem of Yuuri’s t-shirt and gently pulls it off. Yuuri quickly pulls his glasses off and drops them into his lap before he holds his arms up, then puts them back on as Victor drops the shirt on the floor. Victor's hands skip back around Yuuri’s sides to his belly, and then up his chest, and then he takes Yuuri’s face in his hands and directs it forward toward the mirror. “You look beautiful.”

Yuuri snorts. “I don't.”

“Yes you do. Look at you.”

“I am looking at me.” That's not necessarily true - he's looking at Victor looking at him. They're close enough that Victor probably can't tell the difference of the angle of his gaze.

Victor knows anyway. “Are you, though? Do you see what I'm seeing?”

“I mean, I guess.”

“I don't think you do,” Victor says softly. “What I see is beautiful.” He lets go of Yuuri’s chin with one hand and runs his fingers down Yuuri’s chest to his belly, and then back up again. His fingertips trace little patterns around Yuuri’s throat, feather light. “Is what you see beautiful?”

Yuuri doesn’t answer immediately. There are three answers, two of which are both correct and incorrect at the same time. If he says no, he’s being honest, but that’s not what Victor believes or wants to hear. If he says yes, he’s lying, but maybe it’s what _he’d_ like to believe.

“Sometimes,” he says eventually.

“All the time,” Victor says. “All of it. Perfection.”

Yuuri flushes and shakes his head a little. Victor kisses his throat again, then leans back against the bed, pulling Yuuri with him.

“All of it,” he repeats. “Look.” He lets go of Yuuri’s chin completely now and pets at Yuuri’s right shoulder. The glint of his ring is a nice complement to Yuuri’s skin. Victor lists to the right and kisses Yuuri’s shoulder, then rubs his nose against a tight cord of muscle and tilts his head to lean his cheek against the small jut of bone. “What a good shoulder. Perfect for me to lean on.”

“It’s all tensed up,” Yuuri mutters.

“It can be untensed,” Victor says. “What about this one?” He leans to the left and leaves a soft trail of kisses from the base of Yuuri’s neck to the bone of his left shoulder. His fingers outline Yuuri’s collarbone and dip into the little hollow at the base of his throat. “Strong. They hold you up. They can hold me up too. So much strength in your shoulders, Yuuri.” Victor looks at the mirror until Yuuri meets his reflection’s eyes. Victor’s eyes are warm, despite the cool blue of his irises. They’re wide open and entirely honest. Yuuri closes his own for a moment, and when he opens them again, Victor is still looking at him.

“Victor,” Yuuri breathes.

“Mm. What else?” Victor tilts Yuuri’s head back a little, so it’s resting on his shoulder. “A good neck. Perfect for leaving little bites on.” He nips at Yuuri’s throat, then mouths at it for a little longer, sucking just a bit, so the skin is only pink when he pulls away. Yuuri squirms a little and lets out a shaky breath, but Victor never stops looking at him so he can’t look away. “Perfect for holding your head up,” Victor murmurs against Yuuri’s skin, then kisses his throat again. “Such a lovely shape.” His thumb brushes across the front of Yuuri’s throat, feeling his windpipe and his pulse and the movements when he swallows.

Yuuri is barely breathing now. Victor’s hands are so gentle, but it’s hard to sit through such delicate words.

Victor nudges Yuuri’s head upright again, propping his skull up in one hand so Yuuri can look straight ahead with no effort. “A wonderful face. Look, you have a little wrinkle there by your nose.” He brushes his thumb along the space between Yuuri’s eyebrows, smoothing the little wrinkle out. “You get it when you laugh at me, or Makkachin. You scrunch your nose up a little bit when you smile. It’s so cute, I never tire of looking at it.” Yuuri smiles a little now, and Victor makes a pleased sound and moves his hand away so he can see better. “Just like that. Such a lovely smile. I know smiling isn’t the easiest for you all the time but I love when you do. It’s like a gift just for me.”

Yuuri is definitely pink now. He tries to looks away a little, but Victor guides his gaze back to himself in the mirror.

“Please don’t look away, Yuuri,” Victor says quietly. “I want to share what I see with you.”

Yuuri swallows hard, and then curls his hands around Victor’s ankles and nods.

Victor smiles again and kisses Yuuri’s temple. “Good. Good hair, too. So fluffy.” He ruffles Yuuri’s hair, leaving it sticking up in a dozen directions, then curls his hand into a fist and tugs lightly. “So good to pull, too. I love how you’re letting it grow.”

“Does it remind you of your old hair?” Yuuri asks.

“Not at all.” Victor smoothes Yuuri’s hair back down, then rubs his thumb along the outline of Yuuri’s lips. “Ah, these. I love these very much.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. I love how they feel against my shoulder in the morning when we wake up.”

“I like that too,” Yuuri admits.

“And when you kiss me before you get started with practice. Your lips are cold but they make me feel warm.”

That sounds like something straight out of a play book, but Yuuri can’t help but flush darker and tilt his head against Victor’s.

Victor presses his fingertip to Yuuri’s lips and Yuuri kisses it. Victor looks delighted as he traces his way to Yuuri’s left cheeks. “Such soft cheeks. I know you worry about them, but they suit you. They feel good to hold in my hands.” Victor momentarily turns Yuuri’s head away so he can cup Yuuri’s face with both hands, then turns him back. He rubs his knuckles against Yuuri’s cheekbone, down to his jaw, and then down to his chest. His arms come around Yuuri’s waist again, stroking his belly. Victor rests his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder and rolls it around a little in a small massage, then rubs his face against the crook of Yuuri’s neck. “And you always smell so good. Even when you’re fresh off the rink.”

“Gross,” Yuuri murmurs.

“I don’t think so,” Victor says. “I love it.” He breathes in deeply, then sighs in contentment. “You smell uniquely you. I could not ever mistake you for anyone else.”

Something warm bubbles in Yuuri at that. Victor isn’t shy about confessing his love at any time, but still, Yuuri sometimes wonders how replaceable he is. Whether or not he’ll keep believing it later, it feels good now to know that he isn’t replaceable at all.

Victor reaches down and takes both of Yuuri’s hands in both of his. “You have beautiful hands, Yuuri. Such long fingers too.”

Yuuri wiggles the fingers of his right hand. Victor’s thumb rubs over his ring.

“Oh, yes. My favorite part.” He draws Yuuri’s hand up to his mouth and kisses the ring on Yuuri’s finger. “It suits you so well. I love seeing you carry a reminder of me with you. Even when you skate.”

“Of course I do when I skate,” Yuuri says. “I wouldn’t ever want to skate without you.”

“And I love that,” Victor says. He squeezes Yuuri’s hands, then moves them back to his sides. “I love everything you do with your hands.”

Yuuri catches Victor’s right hand before it leaves and laces their fingers together. He squeezes again, then lets Victor go. Victor seems rather affected by that, even as he moves his hands back up Yuuri’s sides.

“Feels nice,” Yuuri says. He searches out Victor’s gaze. Victor isn’t actually looking at his face, but it’s okay. Yuuri find that he doesn’t mind.

Victor’s hands are rubbing at Yuuri’s chest muscles now. “You’re so strong,” he’s murmuring against Yuuri’s skin. “Do you know how strong you are? You have such a deep inner core strength.”

“I have to,” Yuuri says.

“I know. But that doesn’t mean that it’s not impressive–” a kiss to Yuuri’s shoulder again “–or that I don’t adore it.” Another kiss. “I love that you can pick me up and carry me to bed.” Another kiss. “And I love watching you do sit-ups.” Another kiss. “And I love that you can hold me down sometimes.” Another kiss. “Here, too.”

His hands move down from Yuuri’s chest to his belly. It’s a little soft because it won’t ever not be, and Yuuri is still self conscious about it, but Victor loves to nuzzle his face against it when they’re curled up on the couch. He reassures Yuuri over and over that, as long as it doesn’t interfere with skating, it’s just fine, that Yuuri doesn’t need to worry about it as long as he’s taking good care of himself. And Yuuri does take good care of himself, and whenever he starts to feel a little edgy about his size, Victor is there, draping himself over Yuuri and espousing praises that make Yuuri blush.

“Help me?” Victor asks. His thumbs are hooked in Yuuri’s waistband. Yuuri plants his feet and pushes his hips up and Victor strips off his pants and underwear together. Yuuri feels alarmingly bare for a couple seconds, but then he settles against Victor again and the rest of him settles too.

“What do you like here?” Yuuri finds himself asking.

“A faster answer would be what I don’t like,” Victor says. “Which is nothing. It’s all beautiful, Yuuri, remember? This part–” he points to Yuuri’s sternum “–and this part–” he points to a bit of pudge around Yuuri’s hip “–and this part–” he runs his finger along the line of Yuuri’s hip bone “–and all the other parts.”

“All of them?”

“All of them.” Victor has to lean forward to reach, but he gets a handful of Yuuri’s right thigh and squeezes. “I adore your thighs. They’re incredibly thick and strong. You could probably kill me with them.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“It would not be the worst way to go, I don’t think,” Victor says wryly. He gives Yuuri a little smirk, then rubs his thumb against a stretch mark near Yuuri’s hips. “I like these marks.”

“I don’t.”

“I know you don’t. I like them for both of us. Proof that you've grown as a person.” Victor runs his thumb from end to end of the stretch mark, then lets his hand fall and squeezes Yuuri’s ass. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that I like this.”

Yuuri laughs. “You could anyway.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to neglect any part of you.” Victor squeezes again, kneading a little. “You look very, very good in a figure skating costume and this is probably one of the top three reasons why.”

“You made a list?”

“Of course. Up in here.” Victor taps his temple with his free hand. “I add to it every time you skate.”

“You do not.”

“Every time.” Victor reaches his thumb out and nudges at the base of Yuuri’s spine. “Sensitive, too. Fun to play with. Oh, there are your back dimples!”

Victor coos a little and Yuuri doesn’t really get it, but his body is becoming more and more relaxed and comfortable. He looks at himself in the mirror, legs splayed and body draped against Victor’s chest, and doesn’t feel shame or repulsion or even discomfort. He sees what Victor sees, if only because it’s being directly pointed out to him. Maybe that’s just what he needs – generic platitudes are nothing, but when confronted with his own strengths, even he has to admit that they’re pretty good.

Victor’s hands both curve around Yuuri’s hips and squeeze. “Such good hips,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “They feel so good to hold. Strong, too. You have such lower body strength, it’s lovely.”

Yuuri flexes a little. Victor laughs, but his eyes darken a little.

“Perfect. All your muscles jump a little when you do that.” One hand goes to Yuuri’s cock and the other to the inside of his thigh. Victor tugs his legs a little more open, but it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to get Yuuri off so much as he just really wants to touch all of him. “I could write arias about your cock, but I suspect you would never speak to me again.”

Yuuri chuckles breathlessly. “Maybe not.”

“I’ll have to hold myself back somehow, then.” Victor trails his fingers down to the covered head of Yuuri’s cock. “Your skin is so soft here.” He rubs the inside of Yuuri’s thigh with his other hand. “And here. Touching you is so decadent.”

That seems a little excessive, but Yuuri feels swept away in quiet pleasure, and he’s not even going to argue about it. His cock is reacting a little bit, just to the touch, but it’s not urgent at all.

Victor notices though. “The attention seems to be exciting you,” he says, without judgment. “That’s good. I’ll be sure to come back here.” Then he lets Yuuri’s cock go and leans forward a little, pushing Yuuri with him, to reach his knees.

Yuuri’s knees are not very nice, objectively, and neither is anything below them. Skating is hard on the legs, and Yuuri, at twenty-four, has been dealing beatings to them for over a dozen years. Still, Victor touches them reverently, like it’s a privilege to be able to play with the hair on Yuuri’s scarred up left shin.

“Your legs are strong too,” Victor tells him. “Because they carry you, even when it hurts. And they lift you up, even when it seems like we defy gravity. And they are worn because of all the experiences you’ve had. Like a history book.”

Maybe some other time, Yuuri would resent the idea of a history book of his career - his Wikipedia page is about all he can handle, and even that is sometimes on the things to avoid list when he feels particularly low - but the way Victor says it makes it sound poetic. He’s worked for over a decade to earn this damage, turned damage into beauty in his step sequences and spins and told a story. Recently, even a story that belonged to him. He looks at his legs, his scraped up ankled and calloused, bruised feet, and he loves them too. Victor’s fingers trace around the arch of one foot, very very gently, and he watches Yuuri while he does it. Yuuri makes eye contact for a moment, but then his eyes fall back to the reflection of Victor’s hand as it gently tries to soothe aches that will stick with Yuuri for a long time. But they’re not so bad. They were tools in something beautiful.

Yuuri startles a little when Victor moves, shifting Yuuri off of his chest and down so that he can lie on his back on the pillows. Yuuri blinks at him, confused, but Victor is crawling over him, picking up the mirror and shifting it onto its side so that it matches their bodies again. It’s maybe two and a half feet wide, but probably six feet tall, and when Yuuri looks at it, he can see all of him and all of Victor reflected back.

Victor is above him now, kneeling over him with his hands on either side of Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuuri looks up and blinks again, then smiles softly. “Hi.”

Victor smiles too. “Hello.” He balances on his knees and one hand to brush hair off of Yuuri’s forehead. “I want you to keep watching the mirror, okay? I want you to keep seeing you.”

“But I want to see you too.”

“You will. I’ll be right here. But keep looking, okay? Don’t look away.”

“Okay. I won’t,” Yuuri promises. He raises his head up a little and Victor rewards him with several soft kisses, and then turns Yuuri’s face back toward the mirror with one finger. Yuuri lets himself be moved and doesn’t blush, even when he sees himself spread out naked on a pile of pillowed, a fully clothed Victor hovering over him, leaning in to kiss at Yuuri’s neck. One of Victor’s hands stays on the ground for balance and the other curls around Yuuri’s cock, which is still mostly soft. “I told you I’d come back for this.”

“Mmm,” Yuuri agrees helpfully. Pleasure is a lazy roll through his body, a slow sink into the onsen, being filled with warm water, almost so slowly that you don’t realize that it’s actually filling your whole body up.

“I want you to see yourself when you feel good,” Victor murmurs against Yuuri’s jaw. “You’re so beautiful when you feel good.”

Yuuri feels very good now. The slow, soft movements of Victor’s hand against him are nice, but they’re not his main focus. They’re just an addition to the sense of comfortable rightness that Victor has already given him. Victor’s breath tickles a little and his fringe brushes Yuuri’s cheek as he moves, layering soft kisses all over Yuuri’s throat. He leaves little licks and nips occasionally, but it seems like that’s not really the point either. He pulls up, murmurs, “I love you,” and then ducks back down, nuzzling Yuuri’s collarbones. He shifts his weight onto his thighs and starts petting at Yuuri’s side with his free hand, and speeds up his strokes with the other, tugging Yuuri’s foreskin back a little. Yuuri watches his flushed skin disappear and reappear under Victor’s touch for a while, and then looks at the way Victor’s head bobs as he rubs his cheek against Yuuri’s sternum, and then he looks back up at his own face. His expression is relaxed and even happy, and it would startle him if he wasn’t feeling so floaty right now. There’s a little hint of a smile curving up his lips that he didn’t know he was even doing, but now that it’s there, it looks good too.

“I know,” Victor says from somewhere around Yuuri’s ribs. “You have a beautiful smile.”

Yuuri’s smile just widens a little and he reaches up to run his fingers through Victor’s hair, then melts back into the pillows.

Victor looks delighted again, and then he goes back to kissing Yuuri’s chest. He licks Yuuri’s nipples to tease, which makes Yuuri twitch a little in Victor’s hand, and touches each individual rib with his fingers and then his lips. Yuuri closes his eyes for a moment, drifting, and then opens them again. He can see Victor’s eyes half-lidded as he presses his forehead to Yuuri’s belly, can see how dark they are and how much Victor seems to be genuinely enjoying himself. Yuuri arches up a little to get Victor to touch more of him and Victor breathes out a laugh, then squeezes Yuuri’s hip again to pin him down and leaves wet kisses all over Yuuri’s soft belly.

The tip of Yuuri’s cock nudges against his cheek as he kisses Yuuri’s hips and the sparse trail of hair that ducks down until it joins his pubic hair, and then he nuzzles that too, shifting his hand up and thumbing at the head instead of along the shaft. Yuuri starts petting Victor’s hair again as Victor leaves little pinkish hickeys all over his hips. He presses down a little on the top of Victor’s head, maybe hoping that he would take Yuuri in his mouth, but Victor doesn’t budge and Yuuri doesn’t mind. It all feels good but not urgent or frantic – Yuuri could float like this for an hour and never be bothered. Victor kisses his cock now, which is a little interesting, because even though Victor was just jerking him off, neither of them treat it as anything more than lips against skin. It feels just as good when Victor lets go of Yuuri to pull his thighs apart and ducks his head down between Yuuri’s legs to suck at pale, easily marked skin.

Victor covers nearly every available inch of Yuuri’s legs with his lips and hands. He strokes Yuuri’s calves and kisses his knees and lifts Yuuri’s leg up by the ankle so he can kiss that too. They lock eyes in the mirror as Victor presses his lips to the top of one foot, and then the ankle, and then back down until he reaches Yuuri’s hips again and he does the same on the other side. Yuuri’s body is too fluid and melty to even try to look away from the mirror now, so he can only watch himself be taken care of as Victor rubs his feet and licks the inside of his knee.

Victor crawls back up and takes Yuuri’s cock in hand again, then lies down plastered up against him, on the other side so that he doesn’t block Yuuri’s view.

“What do you see?” Victor asks.

Yuuri looks at the two of them, Victor’s head resting on Yuuri’s shoulder, Victor’s knee thrown lazily over Yuuri’s thigh. They look at ease and comfortable and happy and content, which Yuuri realizes now are four different things that all need each other.

“Something beautiful,” he murmurs.

Victor leans up and kisses Yuuri’s jaw. “Good. Now, watch yourself one more time.”

With all the attention here now instead of spread across his whole body, the whole thing is a pretty short affair. Yuuri doesn’t care about holding back, not even when he can see himself. His chest gets a little splotchy with flushing and his mouth can never stay closed, but it’s still beautiful. He stills likes how he looks, with Victor giving him more pleasure than his blissed out brain really knows what to do with. He’s been floating on a comfortable cloud for so long and this just elevates it higher.

"Look at your thighs," Victor directs him. They're shaking a little. Victor brushes Yuuri's knee with his elbow and pins one leg against his own, and the other falls open of its own accord.

"Your stomach muscles get tense when you're trying not to thrust upwards," Victor points out. They're doing that now, but Yuuri didn’t even notice. It's so easy for him to let himself be taken. His body might want to drive up into Victor's hand, but his brain is humming contentedly, happy to let Victor do the work.

"Look at your cock," Victor says, and Yuuri does. "You're so wet already. You make it so easy for me. I love seeing how much you enjoy being touched." Yuuri makes a soft whimpering sound in the back of his throat. It's not difficult to pleasure him at the worst of times, but right now, every stroke of Victor's hand is making warm, muted pleasure roll through him like the ocean.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” Victor tells him. “But even more so right before, when you’re right on the edge.”

Yuuri goes right to the edge. It’s not hard. Everything is very easy. He gets that little wrinkle between his eyebrows that Victor loves so much and his breath comes in little pants through parted lips. Victor’s arm moves in the corner of Yuuri’s vision, but for a moment, Yuuri is entranced with his own face the way Victor sees it all the time, and he loves Victor for showing it to him.

Then he comes and it feels more like a release of energy than an orgasm. He doesn’t go high so much as his body floats gently back down to Earth in slow, rolling pulses. He sees his cock twitch and spill come all over his stomach, and it’s fine. A little artistic, maybe. Still beautiful. He trembles through it, quietly entranced with himself, and then Victor cleans him up with a shirt that’s probably Yuuri’s shirt and Yuuri doesn’t mind. He shuffles down and kisses Yuuri’s spent cock and sticky belly clean, and then he starts kissing Yuuri’s chest again, like he’d forgotten to stop.

Yuuri drifts again, and his eyes fall closed. He’s so comfortable and so content to just lie here, pillows under him and Victor warm on top of him. Victor murmurs something and Yuuri hums at the sound of his voice. It’s a nice voice that says nice things and Yuuri likes hearing it. Everything is dark and warm and good. He feels good. He feels settled in his own body and all of it belongs to him and he’s glad about it.

Arms slot under his shoulders and knees and lift him up. Yuuri is too sleepy to open his eyes, but his logical brain tells him that it’s probably Victor, so everything is fine. He drapes one arm around Victor’s shoulders to help, although he doesn’t actually take any of the weight, and then lets go again when Victor deposits him in bed. The sheets are already pulled back, so it’s very easy for Victor to tuck him in. Yuuri hums happily, and then again when the sheets shift around and a pillow is tucked under his head and then a body pressed up against his back. Victor’s arm comes around his chest and holds him close, and Victor’s breath tickles his ear.

“How was that?”

“Mmm. Very good.”

“I love you, Yuuri.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty great.”

Victor laughs. “Sleep, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri sleeps, easy and well.


End file.
